that he could stand up and walk. It took him a good five minutes to make his way without any noise. A couple of times, he made pebbles scrape and had to slow down. When he finally got to the place where they’d left their horses, Angus, Greer, and Ram were waiting for him. There was a tension among them. They stood with their arms crossed over their chests. At first Ciaran thought the irritation was directed at him, but as soon as Angus opened his mouth, Ciaran realized the tension was between them.
“We have tae do something. We cannae leave those two. We have tae go back and get more men.”
Ram shook his head immediately. “That will start an all-out war. A war that we dinna need right now. We already have enough problems. Are ye forgetting the building and the outsiders? Besides, we ken nothing about these people. They could be with the outsiders. Ye saw how they are dressed. They are nae Highlanders.”
“Nae, I am nae forgetting,” Angus hissed and shook his own head furiously.
Ciaran met Greer’s stare, but Greer shrugged as if to say whatever you decide and remained quiet, as usual. Ciaran glanced back toward the cliff. Damn it all, they were both right. They could not risk a war with the MacLeans… not yet anyway, but unless he missed his guess, it was only a matter of time. Still… something deep down inside of him, crazy as it was, could not leave. God help him, Red was like a glass of finely aged bourbon—smooth and warm going down, followed by a kick that left a man feeling alive. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Ciaran gave Ram and Angus a smile. “What is that saying? The enemy of my enemy….”
“Is my friend,” Ram finished. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “Goddammit.”
Ciaran nodded. Goddammit indeed.
CHAPTER THREE
“We’re Doomed!!! Please note the capital D and the three exclamation marks.”
—Timothy on Bannon’s current situation.
“Bannon?” Something tapped his cheek. “Bannon, can you hear me?”
Someone jostled his shoulder, making his head spin and his teeth clack. Bile filled his mouth, tickling the back of his throat. “Answer me right—” A loud screech rent the air, and other more masculine voices started talking.
Voices Bannon didn’t recognize.
Where am I? What…? Oh no! The crash, the escape…. The fall! “Louie?” That screech had been Louie! Nausea clawed its way up Bannon’s throat along with the knowledge there were people around him. He blinked several times, trying to get his eyes to come into focus. How long had he been out? Geez, he felt as though he’d fallen off a mountain. Which, technically, he had. His stomach finally had enough. Bile rose in his throat, and he propped himself up on his elbow and vomited with a body-wrenching clench that made sure he realized where every single pain he had was located.
The rocks around him came into view along with stretched-out shadows and several pairs of boots. One pair he could see quite clearly—short brown boots made out of some sort of rough animal hide—right underneath his nose. There was light. The torches. The brutes that had taken them hostage!
Something hard tapped under his chin. “On ye feet, outsider.” The voice was guttural, harsh, and unfamiliar.
Bannon looked up a glinting length of steel, realizing it was a sword under his chin. Galaxy, what was it with these savages pointing swords at him? He’d had quite enough. His gut clenched again, threatening a repeat of its previous evacuation. When he was finally able to focus on something other than the blade at his throat, he saw long, hairy legs, a dirty skirt, some sort of hairy pouch, a dark cloak, and broad shoulders under a dingy, sodden shirt.
A grizzly bear of a man, with ratty brown-and-gray hair and even rattier beard, glared down at him. He looked like the villain right out of a fairy-tale illustration only…. Ewww… I’d need a lot of yellow ochre to paint that nose. It was big and bulbous. His beady eyes weren’t much better. They hinted at a mean spirit, like Percy’s eyes, but there was something different about this man. He held himself straighter than the rest, with an aura of power about him.
All around Big Nose, the men who’d captured them clustered. Some held torches, others just stared. Where were their horses?
Bannon swallowed hard and pushed himself to a sitting position, being careful of the sword at his throat. How long